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by DisplacedKey



Series: Diarmute Week 2020 [4]
Category: Pilgrimage (2017)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisplacedKey/pseuds/DisplacedKey
Summary: They have a good life now. Diarmuid just has to get used to the idea of keeping it.
Relationships: Brother Diarmuid/The Mute
Series: Diarmute Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673284
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	Home

David woke with Diarmuid hugging him in his sleep, his face tucked into David’s neck. David smiled, letting himself enjoy the warmth of their body heat before trying to gently extricate himself from the younger man’s grip. Diarmuid’s eyes fluttered open almost immediately and he gave David a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” he murmured, and David stroked his hair in response. Diarmuid scooted up and pressed a kiss to David’s cheek before rolling off of him. David squeezed Diarmuid’s shoulder before climbing out of bed and starting the day.

By the time David got back from feeding and watering their animals—a few sheep, a cow, and about a dozen chickens—Diarmuid was up, dressed, and had breakfast ready. He crossed their small cottage and pressed another kiss to David’s cheek in greeting. David caught him by the back of the neck and pulled him in to press kisses to his forehead, both cheeks, the tip of his nose. When he let go Diarmuid was flushed and giggling. “Eat your breakfast,” he said, swatting David’s arm.

They ate porridge with berries and slices of bread. Diarmuid watched David the entire meal, his warm brown eyes flitting around David’s face. David waited until he was finished eating before he put his hands on the table, met Diarmuid’s eyes, and raised a questioning brow. Diarmuid seemed confused for a moment before blushing. “O-oh,” he said. “Oh, I’ve been staring, haven’t I? I’m sorry.”

David shook his head and took Diarmuid’s hand, squeezing it to ask, _Is something wrong?_

“No,” Diarmuid said, shaking his head. “No, no, not at all, not at all! I just…” He stopped, smiled a little. “I was just admiring you.”

David’s face grew warm and he looked away. Diarmuid chuckled. “See, I’m not the only one who blushes around here!” He touched David’s face with calloused fingertips, drawing him back so they were looking at each other. His smile was soft. “I was admiring you,” he said again. “You, and this life we’ve built together. It feels unreal sometimes. Like a dream.” His smile faded a bit. “After everything, I thought I didn’t deserve such happiness. I failed God, and I thought I would be punished accordingly.”

David shook his head. The thought of someone as pure, as good, as _holy_ as Diarmuid being worthy of God’s wrath was ridiculous.

Diarmuid laughed quietly. “Of course you don’t think so, but I did. I expected...well, I’m not sure what. Something terrible. But then you recovered, and we found this place, and we started building a life, and…” Diarmuid looked around them, at their firelit cottage with its shelves of food, handbuilt wooden furniture, bundles of flowers, and little carved knickknacks. He looked at their home and swallowed. “I expected it to be taken from me. I expected to wake up one day and find it all gone. But years went by and that didn’t happen, and I think I've finally realized that maybe it never will.”

David got up from the table and knelt beside Diarmuid’s chair. He took one of Diarmuid’s hands and pressed his lips to it, a promise. Diarmuid stood with wet eyes and pulled David up after him. He drew him in for a kiss, pressing their bodies together until David could feel Diarmuid’s heartbeat. Diarmuid’s lips tasted like berries. When they parted, David pressed their foreheads together in a familiar gesture.

“Yes,” Diarmuid murmured. “It’s time I let myself feel blessed.”

**Author's Note:**

> The previous entry into this series was so depressing I decided to write some tooth-rotting fluff to balance it out.   
> ====  
> This is my fourth entry for @pilgrimagesource's Diarmute Week. The prompt: Blessings.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at https://iwillcarryit.tumblr.com/


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